


What a difference a minute makes

by Domino_2014



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domino_2014/pseuds/Domino_2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Alana arrived in Hannibal's house 5 minutes earlier?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

##  What a difference a minute makes

 

Chapter 1

 

Alana Bloom sat in her car, parked outside the Behavioral Science Unit. Her argument with Cade Prunell had left a bitter taste in her mouth and the phone call with Will Graham had created a hole in her stomach. In her mind she replayed the crime scene photos of the man Will had killed in self defense and then mutilated like one of the serial killers he helped the FBI catch. Prunell was right. That was no self defense, Will used to be a cop; he knew there were limits, didn't he? He could have easily incapacitated Randall Tier and call for help, not beat him dead and then mutilate the body to resemble another Chesapeake Ripper murder.

 

But then that Shiva statue created by "Freddie's" remains? Alana had been there on the scene with Jack and Will. She had felt as if it was a test that she took with Jack and Will as her teachers that guided her towards the answer that it was the mentor that did it as a gift for the mentee.

 

According to Will the mentee was himself and he had "killed" Freddie and as a reward the mentor, Hannibal, had created the statue. That would make sense considering how engrossed Hannibal was with Will's therapy, but... There was something nagging at Alana's brain. Something that needed to be considered and heard but she couldn't figure out what.

 

"I need a vacation. And answers"

 

She grumbled and turned the key in the ignition. A vacation may be out of the cards for now, but answers she did need and had a good idea where to find them. She drove straight to Hannibal's house ignoring the ball of dread that lived in her stomach.

 

She arrived at the Victorian house just over 20 minutes later and sat for a moment with the engine running watching the open front door. Jack was already here despite the warrant for his arrest.

 

Taking a deep breath she turned the engine off, got out of the car into the rain, whipped her phone out and gave into the urge of calling the police prematurely and make a false claim of gunshots. If Jack was really going to go after Hannibal tonight, a few cops with guns would come in handy. If Jack wasn't here and Hannibal had simply forgotten his front door open, she'd be in hot water.

 

It was worth it.

 

Wrapping her fingers around the starfish pendant around her throat Alana whispered

 

"Help me mom"

 

Entering Hannibal's home Alana put her umbrella into the stand Hannibal had and got her gun out. She had taken exactly 3 lessons and all she knew was how to take the safety off and shoot. Her instructor had yapped about proper stances while shooting and keeping her cool about it but he hadn't told her how to check for bullets or something similar so she just held the foreign thing in her hands and stood in the hall.

 

A crush coming from the kitchen guided her to the large peaceful room that most restaurants would be green with envy for. Crossing the archway her mouth fell open. Jack stood in the middle of the counters with Hannibal hanging over his back suspended by what looked like a tie. Both men were covered in blood and Hannibal reminded her of a limp doll.

 

"Jack"

 

She whispered. The man didn't hear her

 

"Jack!"

 

She called out louder and was rewarded with Jack turning to look at her with Hannibal flying behind him like a cape.

 

"Alana get out here"

 

Jack growled making her pale. Jack shouted at everyone but had too much respect for her to shout. In fact, usually she shouted at him and he took it.

 

"Jack you're killing him"

"That's the idea"

 

For a moment the man reminded her of a big brown bear she had seen when she was little. Back then she had screeched for daddy and hauled ass away from the beast. Now she stood her ground and raised the gun and cocked it

 

"Jack stop. Please"

 

Jack complied. Alana was about to let a breath out relieved when Jack brought Hannibal back over his shoulder and slammed him down on the ground like they were in a WWE special. Then the standing man turned to her with a glint in his eye and without thinking Alana pulled the trigger...

 

..And nothing happened. Jack kept on advancing and the stupid gun wouldn't fire. Taking a page out of her brother's playbook Alana threw the gun at Jack catching the bigger man in the stomach and did let out that panicked breath then. Jack let out a strangled cry and fell on his knees.

 

Taking advantage of him falling she rushed to him to grab his cuffs from his pocket and attached him by the hand that wasn't bleeding to the foot stand Hannibal's counters had. Then she picked his gun and went to check on Hannibal.

 

He was unconscious, the back of his head was bleeding and his white shirt was bloodied on the shoulder but Alana didn't know whose blood that was. Until she opened the shirt and saw a gushing cut underneath it.

 

"Hannibal?"

 

She whispered, lost for a moment, until her medical training hit her and she fumbled to grasp a towel to press firmly on Hannibal's gushing wound, pulling his head on her lap. After a moment's considerations she handed another to Jack who took it silently but glaring.

 

"I called the cops before I came in. They'll be here soon. What were you thinking Jack? Prunell cancelled your plans and put out a warrant for your arrest! You had no backup!"

 

She admonished him softly. Jack ignored her and pressed the folded towel on his hand. They remained quiet for a few minutes till a hiss was heard and then steps. Alana raised Jack's gun and then lowered it again when she saw Will cradling his own gun.

 

"What the hell?"

 

Will exclaimed taking them all in. Alana felt a corner of her mouth lift

 

"Welcome to the Slaughter House"

 

She deadpanned and was rewarded by a smirk on Will's lips. Will opened his mouth to say something when a cry was heard and both he and Alana raised their guns to point the archway once again. A grey clad form fell on Will while screeching.

 

Alana recognized the form but it was Will who whispered the name

 

"Abigail?"

 

The teenage girl they all thought dead and eaten let out another cry and began hitting will. Alana fired a shot to the ceiling afraid to even point the gun at her friend and the girl not knowing which one she'd hit.

 

Will's gun was pointing the right away and he fired until Abigail was fallen on her side and will, free of her weight, covered in bruises and scratches, was on his knees staring at her as if he had never seen her again.

 

When the archway was filled with people again, no one even bothered to look up as Hannibal and Jack were taken away by ambulances, Abigail in a coroner van, Will in handcuffs by the FBI agents that followed him to Hannibal's house and Alana was left alone with Cade Prunell thinking she really did need that vacation.

 

Or a really big glass of wine.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Hannibal Lecter disliked hospitals. He disliked the twin odors of sickness and disinfectant. He hated how weak and powerless he felt every time he had to visit one. He woke up in one now chased awake by memories of blood on snow.

 

Sunlight cast bright rays on his eyes.

 

He felt stiffness in his right arm and a numbness that spread along his back, neck and head. Squinting at the eggshell colored ceiling he tried to piece together the events of the previous day.

 

He remembered Jack breaking in and the fight. Will was right, Jack was strong but he was also slow and heavy. Beating him wasn't hard but keeping the game interesting was, so he had slowed down his attacks to give the older man some shred of a chance to win. That was when he smelled her.

 

Alana. Curious as to what she was doing there he had decided to play dead. He heard her plead with an enraged Jack to stop and then fire. He remembered wincing when she couldn't. He had taken her bullets. Then Jack tossed him on the floor like a pancake. That was it. His memories ended there.

 

_What happened after that?_

 

Hearing the hiss of the door he closed his eyes. Footsteps brought the scent of almond soap as well as jasmines and cherry blossoms. Alana. Her voice greeted him, soft almost whispering.

 

"Thanks Peter... Well, I was planning on coming over for a few days, so sure I could check it out"

 

_Who's Peter? She's leaving me?_

 

Hannibal was careful to avoid thinking how he had planned on leaving her behind but didn't like the tightness in his chest at her plans to leave him. Must be a bruise or something, he reasoned.

 

"Well send me the files to study and I'll get back to you. Are you ready for Applesauce?... No my bottles of the stuff 'cause I'm addicted. Of course my dog, Pete"

 

She laughed. Hannibal had to fight not to let the musical sound tease his own lips upwards

 

"Listen. I'll call you when I finalize everything 'k?... Alright, love you too"

 

_She does what now?_

 

The tightness turned into a vice. Steps brought her closer and a cool hand touched his as it rested on the bed

 

"Hannibal? Are you awake?"

 

She spoke even softer than before. Irrationally he remained silent and unmoving. A few moments later he heard her sigh and settle on a chair and soon he could hear pages rustling. He basked in her scent and he realized he was being petty. He should make a show of waking up and ask her what happened. He was about to when the door hissed again. Who was it now!?

 

"Mrs. Lecter I'm Dr West, your husband's physician"

 

Hannibal couldn't help his eyes popping open at the same time Alana sputterred she wasn't his wife. Oddly disappointed Hannibal closed his eyes again

 

"I'm so sorry ma'am, I thought...”

"It's okay, honest mistake. Why is he still asleep? He's been sleeping for twelve hours"

"He has a concussion, his neck is swollen and bruised, a few cuts in his head that thankfully did not require stitches, a dislocated shoulder, a bruised spine, a slash on the dislocated shoulder and judging by the other guy, his whole body hurts. In his shoes I'd be sleeping it off as well"

"If you put it that way"

 

Alana's tone was joking.

 

"Do you want me to tell you about the other guy?"

"No need, I already stopped by his room. I suppose you've been briefed about not saying a word to tabloids or a vivacious redhead, Doctor West?"

"Yes ma'am. My lips are zipped"

"Good"

"If you aren't with him could I propose...?”

 

_Enough is enough._

 

Hannibal thought and made a show of waking up, moving enough to rattle his bed and wince in pain. Immediately the doctor shut up and both he and Alana turned to him. The young man in the medical robes examined him quickly and then left them saying he had to update his superiors. Alana nodded casually but Hannibal frowned.

 

"What superiors?"

 

He croaked. Alana pulled a bottle of water from her bag, opened it, added a straw and handed it to him for a few sips.

 

"What do you remember from last night Hannibal?"

 

Her neutral tone worried him. Looking in her clear blue eyes was like he was looking in whirlpools of clear waters. All emotions were hidden. He didn't like it.

 

"Jack came early for dinner. I asked him if he would like to assist me. We talked about friendship. He attacked me."

 

He said simply, remembering that while Alana was great at her job, but he had taught her everything she knows.

 

"That's it? Sounds a little cut and dry"

 

She said equally simply. He remembered her admission at being paranoid a few days before. She had the same simple and clear expression then as well. He opened his mouth to ask her how she was but they were interrupted again. This time by Prunell in a horrible orange suit. Alana took a few steps away from him and pulled her bag on her shoulder and after saying goodbye she left.

 

Why was everything inside him insisting her goodbye was as final as his unspoken one had been?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Will Graham felt as if he was living a nightmare. The FBI agents Alana had warned him about had followed him to Hannibal's house and found him holding the gun that killed Abigail Hobbs.

 

She had been alive and he had killed her. There was nothing he could say about it except that the teenager had jumped him and he had been panicked and pulled the trigger.

 

He knew Jack would back him up but Jack's word meant jack to anyone. He believed Alana would stand with him but Jack's boss was out for blood, his blood, and for once there was nothing Will could do about it.

 

Because they were right. He was a murderer. He had killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs, he was the reason Beverly Katz died, he had killed Randal Tier and he had definitely and indisputably killed Abigail Hobbs. He could dress it up as he wanted but he knew what he had done.

 

He had killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs and it landed him to Hannibal. He had shot Dr Gideon so the latter wouldn't kill Alana, and he liked having all the power. Even from behind bars, the pure power the feeling gave him, urged him to use Beverly Katz to help him prove Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, and that help led to her death. That power gave him an insane disciple and Will asked Matthew Brown (his disciple) to kill Hannibal. When that didn't work, damn Alana for knowing him well enough to figure out his plans, he got close to Hannibal himself. So close that when he killed Randall Tier and blamed Hannibal for claiming it was in self defense he knew it wasn't. He looked the other way when Hannibal disfigured Mason Verger, the killer of his own unborn baby. He set up Jack to be murdered so they could arrest Hannibal but Will didn't know if he would in face arrest Hannibal for it. He had killed Abigail, for real this time.

 

Being behind bars was his place, otherwise... Otherwise he didn't know if anyone else would be safe with him around.

 

~*~

 

Jack's thoughts were running in circles. He was strapped to a hospital bed, a wrist cuffed to the bed much like Alana had cuffed him Hannibal's house. Prunell was yapping at the foot of his bed about him going on leave until he could remember his job and even then having a supervisor for a while.

 

"What about my team?"

 

He asked, trying not to shout. Prunell gave him a look that would ice Hell

 

"Your team had a job before you yanked them from their positions to help you catch the 'Minnesota Shrike' Jack. I should have charges on you even if Hannibal Lecter doesn't!"

"Then do"

 

Jack sighed. He was tired and he really couldn't be bothered with the woman anymore. It was bad enough he was questioning everything; his choice in choosing Will's help for catching Garrett Jacob Hobbs; his insistence that Will returned to the field despite Will's, and more importantly Alana Bloom's, doubts; Will's unfounded belief that Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper. How he allowed his own obsession with the serial killer to overrule logic and procedures.

 

Jack closed his eyes and leaned backwards ignoring his boss. All he wanted was to go home and be with his wife. What happened next was something he did not care about.

 

~*~

 

Alana's prediction about Dr. West blabbing to a fiery redhead reported had in fact proven wrong. The same couldn't be said about the nurses at the hospital that had given her the scoop for nothing more than 50 bucks and the business card of Freddie's hair salon.

 

"If only the prison guards had been as forthcoming"

 

Freddie Lounds mused driving away from the hospital armed with pictures of both Jack Crawford and Doctor Lecter's wounds. A brief romp with a lowly guard in the prison Will Graham was held had allowed her to catch a few snapshots of the man and she was already envisioning her next article.

 

'FBI agent gone rogue murders daughter of a man he killed' It had a nice catch to it.

 

~*~

 

Alana was walking through an empty cemetery just as the sun began to set.

 

She had hopped on a plane on a whim the moment she had left Hannibal's hospital room. She needed to see her mother and for once in her life she threw caution to the wind. Her nerve wasn't crazy enough to let people know she was there though and was planning on taking the first flight out as well.

 

Until then though... she was home. The small coastal picturesque town had stopped feeling like home years ago, the same night her mother put a gun to her temple and pulled the trigger leaving behind a husband who did not know how to connect with his youngest child, two sons that were too old to be coddled and a young daughter who would remember finding her mother's body still clutching the gun and forever hate guns.

 

She slowed down as she reached a grave and stood in front of it. Clutching the flowers and the leash in her hands a little tighter she slid to her knees in one fluid motion until her eyes were at the same height as the name engraved on the grey tomb

 

Ariadne Bloom. Beloved daughter, wife, mother. You may be away from us but you shall always live in our hearts.

 

"Hi mommy"

 

Alana whispered in the night and placed the white roses she held on the ground. Leaning forward she let her forehead touch the cool stone and began weeping. Next to her the cream dog laid down and placed its beautiful head on Alana's knee offering silent support.

 

There she sat for hours illuminated by the full moon as she drank the last of the beer Hannibal had brewed for her and shared news with her mother's spirit. Alana told her mother everything from meeting Hannibal years ago at the university and meeting Will when they both rushed to their classrooms not knowing they were booked wrongly and had to present their lessons as the same time to watching Will deteriorating in front of her eyes and becoming intimate with her former professor and friend. She shared her doubts and fears. In return she felt lighter as if speaking to a slab of stone had lightened her heart of weight and the cool air around her would provide answers.

 

But maybe it did, because as Alana Bloom relaxed she fell asleep; her mind filled with images and memories that once examined could point her to what her mother would say had she been physically there next to her daughter.

 

~*~

 

Hannibal was restless. His sleep was less peaceful than Alana's even though his hospital bed was far more comfortable than the ground she slept on. He was plagued by something worse than nightmares, he saw memories. An ugly kaleidoscope of memories both real and made up as his brain decided to torture him by filling the gaps in his real memories and showing him things the cannibal had never wanted to see.

 

Full moons were always the hardest times. It was as if the moon could penetrate the walls of his mind and heart and yank out every doubt, every unpleasant truth and torture him with them.

 

There was a reason the Ripper came out on the nights around the full moon and it had nothing to do with the longetivity of the meat like Will had thought...

 

Sighing and turning over once again, Hannibal reached for his phone, silently thanking Alana for having thought to bring it to him that morning. Should he call her to properly thank her? Ask why she fled his room faster than a bat flees Hell?

 

His fingers itched to bring the keyboard on and press 4 but a look at the phone's time display stopped him. She was a normal person and every normal person slept at 3 am. With another sigh he put the small grey earphones in his ears and selected a Miles Davis album.

 

Jazz would sooth him. It had to.

 

~*~

 

When the skies over Hannibal and Alana began getting lighter and he was still restless he gave into temptation. He reached on the table, brought the keyboard on and pressed '4'. A sleepy voice answered in a tone that was similar to mewling

 

"Hello?"

"It's nice to hear your voice again, Alana..."

"Hannibal? What time is it?"

"Nearly 6"

 

Alana stretched and rested her forehead on the cool marble

 

"Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep. I am sorry to have awakened you"

"That's alright. I can never sleep in hospitals either"

 

Alana replied softly, a soft blush on her cheeks, a Mona Lisa smile on her lips

 

"I was hoping to have breakfast together..."

 

he trailed, his toes flexing and unflexing trying to not let his nervousness show in his voice

 

"I'd love to"

 

A long breath left Hannibal’s lips

 

"But I won't be in town till later"

 

What?

 

"Where are you?"

 

He asked abruptly, rudely.

 

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you..."

 

Alana trailed and then shook her head

 

"I'll be home in the early afternoon, if you are free for dinner"

"We'll talk later. Goodnight Alana"

 

His tone was still harsh and this time Alana flinched and her tone became as cold as his

 

"See you later Hannibal"

 

He had already hung up. Alana sighed and rested her head on the gravestone, one hand caressing the letters and the other combing through Applesauce's smooth fur.

 

Hannibal tossed the phone on the bed annoyed with himself and closed his eyes.

 

"Idiot"


	4. vhapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Alana had just left a meeting with Cade Prunell and she was drained. She hadn't liked Prunell ever since they first met at Will's trial and now the woman was grating on her nerves. It didn't help that Alana herself was confused nor that her flight back to Virginia was horrible.

 

Her head told her that Will had issues. He had a serious illness that had shown up far too suddenly, and passed far too easily and that was the root of his obsession with the Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper bandwagon. Yet her heart responded that while Will had issues he was a good guy. And there was something she could do for him besides take his pack in until she could find them new homes.

 

It wasn't the same about the other man in her life. When it came to Hannibal Alana's heart and head were in the same page. She knew him well and she trusted him with everything, her professional reputation, her sanity, her heart. They were student and teacher, friends for years, their current relationship only a natural progression. That was what scared her and what she had wanted to talk to her nether about. If Will had a point in believing Hannibal wasn't a good person, then she was completely wrong and that spun her world off its axis.

 

Hannibal had acted strangely at times but... Who wouldn't when/if they were at the center of the FBI's attention? Hell, Will and Jack had faked Freddie's death to try and goad Hannibal murder someone just so they could arrest him! How was that a sane action and how did it prove that Hannibal was a killer?

 

Her feet carried her to a playground, filled with kids and laughter. A playground was her happy place as a kid and she smiled as ghosts of the past appeared to her and happy memories of being given rides on her brothers' backs, attacking them with water balloons and running away before they could tickle her, family picnics that were only interrupted by family friends...

 

Sitting at a swing she closed her eyes and began rocking back and forth gently, letting the sound of the laughing children sooth her psyche. It was cheaper than a therapist.

 

When her cell phone chirped she didn't bother opening her eyes before answering it, although she did consider ignoring the call.

 

"Hello?"

"Hello Alana"

 

The blue eyes popped open at the sound of his voice.

 

"Hello Hannibal"

 

For a moment nothing but calm breaths could be heard, both people feeling slightly awkward after the way heir last conversation ended.

 

"About this morning...”

"I was wondering...”

 

They spoke at the same time and ended up laughing

 

"Go ahead"

 

Alana allowed with the smile still on her lips

 

"I was wondering if you were free this evening"

"What a coincidence. I do happen to be free"

 

The smile was audible in her voice.

 

"Good"

 

A smile was audible in Hannibal's voice as well.

 

"Are you allowed to leave the hospital just yet or am I bringing take out?"

 

Alana's tone was carefully light. She hated the distance that had been between them lately and she knew the reason for it. It wasn't only him continuing therapy with Will, but her own distrust of him. Both him and will actually.

 

"I am but how about we avoid cooking tonight?"

"You don't want to cook? Are you sure you're healing nicely?"

 

the question was loaded with more meaning than the obvious one and they both knew it. Alana wondered if Hannibal would reply honestly

 

"It is not ideal, realizing I have been played for a fool"

 

The sentiment hang between them for a moment as Alana wondered how truthful the words were.

 

"Not to sound smug but I did tell you once how strange it was to see you back in therapy with will graham"

 

she reminded softly and was rewarded with a dry chuckle

 

"I think my own delusions of grandeur may have influenced my reply at the time"

 

Alana heard his sigh and one left her own lips. A little girl, chased by a little boy ran across the park, tipped and fell in front of Alana, stood, waved at her and ran away laughing. Alana waved back holding a smile at the childish resilience at scraped knees. If only grownups could be the same

 

"I'm sorry Hannibal"

 

Her voice was covered by childish laughter making Hannibal ask her where she was.

 

"At a playground, clearing my head. And you?"

 

She laughed

 

"Home. Meet me at 9pm at Mario's?"

"It's a date"

 

~*~

 

His lips curled in a smile he hadn't manufactured, Hannibal Lecter let the phone die and the ringing of the dead connection resonated in his ear for a moment before he hung up. His day hadn't been pleasant so far and he had selfishly hoped for an evening out. His back losing it's nimrod straight position he leaned backwards in his chair and touched the small box of memories he had found that day.

 

Upon being released from the hospital he returned home. His kitchen while clean and free of blood was in complete disarray and his office was missing notes from various patient files he had thrown away believing he would be leaving his life behind.

 

Pouring himself a glass of rich red wine (even though he wasn't supposed to drink while he was taking his medication) he had taken a lot of time to reflect.

 

What had happened? How had things derailed so much? He knew Will was setting him up, he had realized that the moment the horrible scent of Freddie Lounds was carried on Will's clothes into his home, had infiltrated his nostrils.

 

He had reacted accordingly, made sure he caught Will on tape telling him that Jack 'had to meet the Ripper' and more explicitly that 'Jack had to die'. He was going to use it when Will accused him for Jack's death. He didn't need to though.

 

A little prodding to Cade Prunell had given him the answers he needed. Alana had stopped Jack from beating him up, cuffed Jack and took care of him until the police would arrive. Instead Will did arrive, Abigail attacked Will and Will killed her. He knew Abigail disliked Alana, but why she attacked Will was beyond him but it was all over and no one to tie him into the Ripper killings. Abigail was dead, Will was behind bars, Jack was clueless really, Miriam had pointed at Chilton, Chilton himself was somewhere recuperating and while Bedelia knew enough to be dangerous she also knew she would make excellent kebobs if she got out of line. Hannibal was safe and he knew it

 

And what happened now? Life as usual.

 

Copies of his patient files were easy to find. He was meticulous about his records so opening his safe he had restored the files he needed and altered a few others enough to lay off all suspicion of him.

 

Behind the files he found a box marked 'JH 1995-2005'. With a frown he had pulled it out as well and browsed it only to remember it was notes from his teaching in John's Hopkins. A smile was born on his lips at the picture of a graduation.

 

Front and center was a young woman with long dark hair, eyes that sparkled with hope and lips curling in a smile as natural as the air she breathed. Her eyes weren't on him having been roped by a few students in taking the picture, but on a young man sitting in the row behind him and her smile was aimed at him as well.

Him, who had introduced a young yet disillusioned Alana Bloom to his classes and Hannibal. Him, who had broken her heart once yet refused to give it away. Him, who went missing a day after this photo was taken and was served at a celebratory dinner he had thrown for the faculty member and his young protégé.

 

Good times...

 

For now life would return to normal. Dr Lecter decided. He knew the Ripper couldn't go out and play even if his fridge was bare from any good meat. Luckily though Hannibal had other venues to exploit and things would return to business as usual.

 

Patients, some social dinners and gatherings to assert that he was there alive and kicking and maybe restart his own therapy but not with Bedelia. He had long ago toyed with the idea of including his protégé in his practice but had discarded that idea once Alana and him became intimate as unnecessary.

 

But maybe, just maybe, they could work together because it was one more step in their relationship and not because it would serve a purpose. Maybe...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

Alana paid the driver and got out of the taxi and straightened her dress. Her car had been acting up all day and she had wanted to avoid to get stranded in the middle of the road at night in her dress.

 

She had debated most of the afternoon what to wear. In the end, her devious side had won. It was a shimmer black dress bought for the occasion. It was mid-thigh and showed off her long legs, but not too much. The neckline was not low by any stretch, but the back was a different story. It plunged down, the material starting again just above the curve of her hips. The dress was held up by two spaghetti straps on her shoulders that kept her from exposing too much. A thin silver strip crossed horizontally at her lower back; in the right light, it was almost invisible. She had topped it off with black high-heeled pumps and a black clutch purse with silver trim. She had even pulled her hair up carefully into a loose bun, allowing tendrils to fall about her face it in what appeared to be a haphazard fashion, although in reality, it was carefully planned.

 

Walking to the front doors, which were opened for her by the host, Alana noticed the glances she was getting from patrons but ignored them. She was interested in one man only.

 

"Hello, I'm…"

 

She started, but was quickly cut off.

 

"I am well aware, Doctor Bloom. Please, follow me."

 

The silver haired man turned and started walking through the mostly full dining room. She caught more male patrons giving her a second look and smiled letting the looks feed her ego.

 

The host got to a closed door and stopped. Alana looked confused; where had he taken her? With one swift movement he opened the door and her question was answered. Hannibal had somehow arranged to have a private room for them.

 

She took one step in and caught her breath. In the center of an intimately-sized room was a table set for two people. Soft classical music played, and the room was lit with what Alana estimated to be nearly 100 candles. But the effect was breathtaking; everything had a stunning soft yellowy orange glow. On one wall was a lit fireplace. A vase of roses sat on the mantelpiece, and around the room were several other arrangements of flowers, some exotic in species. She was so stunned by her surroundings; she nearly missed the man standing to the left of the table, staring at her, enjoying her reaction.

 

When her gaze finally stopped on him, she was amazed. For a man that had left the hospital that morning he certainly looked well. He was dressed in an expensive, dark grey suit, tailored perfectly to his body. It took Alana a minute to realize that not only it wasn't one of his customary three piece ones but the shirt was also unbuttoned at the neck giving her a glimpse of his exposed throat. He had a soft smile on his face and Alana felt like she was the only person in the whole world to have that gaze on her. He moved to her and held out one hand.

 

"Alana, you look...stunning."

 

He greeted her by bringing her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it, his eyes firmly set on Alana's.

 

"I didn't go to a gun range today"

 

Her tone was laughing but the underlying message clear. Hannibal closed his eyes and nodded.

 

"I deserve that"

 

He acknowledged and led her to the table, where they sat across from each other. Again there were no lights, only a few candles, but it was plenty; they could still see each other.

 

"How... did you manage this in one day?"

 

Suddenly a waiter appeared from the doorway she had come though, and all Hannibal did was nod at him.

 

"Anything for a beautiful woman."

 

He smiled at her. She returned the smile as a sommelier appeared with a bottle of wine. Hannibal took a small taste, nodded, and their glasses were filled. The sommelier left the bottle in a cooler and quickly retreated from the room without a word.

 

"I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of ordering already."

 

Alana shook her head smiling indulgely. You can take Hannibal Lecter away from the kitchen but you cannot take the kitchen away from him. Alana picked up her glass at the same time as he and drank. The house wine was light, a familiar taste teasing her palate. Keeping one eye on him, she remarked.

 

“It tastes similar to my beer.”

“It does?”

“Mhm, the same ingredient I can’t place”

 

Hannibal’s tone was too casual. He already knew. With another, deliberate this time, sip Alana complimented the wine, letting it go. Hannibal took her hand in his and squeezed it.

 

"You have impeccable taste,"

 

She said and set the glass down. He nodded, replying solemnly.

 

"I know"

 

At this Alana laughed loudly

 

"And a night in a coma doesn't take your modesty away"

 

Hannibal laughed with her surprised at how easy laughing was.

 

"Thank you. I spoke with Cade Prunell and she filled me in at what happened. I am truly sorry you had to see that"

 

She raised her eyebrows at him.

 

"I'm not. If I hadn’t shown up when I did Jack would have killed you... And that's not something I am prepared to go through"

 

Alana's tone was curt, betraying her hurt. Hannibal squeezed her hand again

 

"I should rephrase. I am pleased you saved my life for the second time in less than three months. However I do hate that you had to live those experiences"

"Experiences is what shapes us Hannibal"

 

At Hannibal's stricken expression it was Alana's turn to squeeze his hand.

 

"You are indeed correct"

 

A sip or wine later Hannibal spoke again

 

"Tell me something I don't know about you"

 

Alana looked up surprised.

 

"There are things you don't know about me?"

"I know you transferred schools from Yale to John Hopkins, I know you have three brothers. I know you mouthed off to me the first time we met."

 

Alana blushed at the reminder of their first meeting

 

"What do you want to know?"

 

She asked, as the door opened once again, and a salad plate was placed in front of her. She looked at the plate, pleased. The mix of greens and walnuts was something she loved and rarely had with him.

 

They ate in silence, thinking about the other, their hands toying with each other’s and boldly tasting each other’s salads. There was no awkwardness. There never was (with the exception of the meal they shared with Will) between them even before taking the next step in their relationship.

 

When the plates where cleared and their glasses refilled Alana answered.

 

"I saw my mother kill herself when I was four"

 

Hannibal blinked at the impact. Alana's face remained passive yet a flinch went through her body at the memory of the sharp sound of the bullet.

 

"It was a fall day and we had dropped my brothers off at school when she decided we'd go shopping and then we visited my grandfather at the office. I ran from the elevator to show off my newly pierced ears. I don't know why I turned but I went back to the elevator and saw her put the gun to her temple. She told me to close my eyes but of course I didn't listen and saw her pull the trigger"

 

Hannibal's breaths were controlled but Alana’s weren't. Her whole body had gone rigid and she was staring straight at the flame of a candle as she spoke. Her voice came from far away and her left hand clutching Hannibal’s tight enough for her French manicured nails to leave marks was the only clue that she was in the room with him.

 

"My grandfather’s coworkers had to forcibly pry me away from her. To this day I still can't enter that elevator; I always take the stairs when I visit him"

"What happened after that?"

 

Hannibal's voice was soft gently guiding her away from the image stuck in her mind as he did his best to ignore the accented, childish voice calling his name from his own memories. It wasn't time yet.

 

"My father may be a good man but he had no idea how to raise a girl and my brothers treated me either with hostility or as a china doll that would break if looked at the wrong way so my grandparents moved me into their house and when I wouldn't stop screaming for mom, they gave me her pendant"

 

Alana's right hand absentminded stroked the small starfish hanging from a dainty chain from her neck. Hannibal understood why the pendant always came off before they went to bed, then.

 

"When the nightmares wouldn't go away, my grandfather made me see a therapist, friend of his. I hated every minute of it but he did help me. By the time my birthday came by I could hear her name without bursting in tears although I still dislike how people mistake me for her"

 

At Hannibal's frown she explained after taking another sip from her wine.

 

"I'm her spitting image. The only difference is that she wore her hair straight while mine has waves and I keep it longer"

"How did you ended up a psychiatrist if you hated your therapist then?"

 

Alana smirked

 

"My dorm mate had a crush on the psychology TA and we snuck in a lesson once so she could ogle at him. She ended up marrying him and I ended up changing my major from journalism"

"I definitely cannot see you giving a run to Freddie Lounds for her money. You are easier to open up to but you're not sneaky or despicable"

 

He said and Alana laughed locking the memories away to be examined later or never, whichever came first. When she spoke again, the words that left her lips weren’t planned.

 

"At my graduation dinner my father got drunk and called me by my mother's name saying he wouldn't lose me again. I got upset and accused him of being a crappy husband if he didn't notice his wife being so depressed she'd kill herself. The boys were divided and the fight got out of control. In the end I walked away and never looked back. Not until my grandfather had a heart attack and the possibility of losing another parent hit me"

"When was that?"

"A week after Miriam Lass disappeared"

 

Hannibal's fingers entwined with Alana's as he remembered her going pale after a phone call and fainting in his arms. It was the first time he had held her.

 

"And that's all you're going to get until you tell me more about yourself"

 

She smiled

 

"Quid pro quo, Alana?"

 

He returned the smile.

 

"It's only fair"

 

He reached across the small table with his other hand, and touched her face lightly, just stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

 

"You are a beautiful woman Alana. Don't let your resemblance to your mother haunt you"

 

Alana leaned in his touch and placed a soft kiss on the inside of the palm that was cupping her cheek

 

"Thank you. But compliments will not let you off the hook"

 

Just then the door opened, and the waiter returned with two plates, placing one in front of each of them.

 

“Veal Medallions with Apple-Thyme Sauce”

 

Alana grinned.

 

“I suddenly understand why you love his place so much”

“I have been trying to copy this recipe for years and I ca never mimic it perfectly"

“Maybe you’re missing the secret ingredient”

 

She shrugged one shoulder. Hannibal grinned leaning in

 

“But I do know the secret ingredient”

 

And kissed her, enjoying the tang of freshly cooked human meat on her lips.

 

Alana smiled and began eating as well. They both regretted the loss of each other's hand. Nearly thirty minutes later the plates were cleared and their hands found their way together.

 

"That was... excellent. And you’re right, you haven’t been copying the recipe right"

 

Looking up, she noticed him smiling at her.

 

"What?"

 

Hanibal shook his head smiling at her.

 

“Nothing. Thank you for agreeing to see me tonight. I needed to be out, remembering that I am alive”

“Thank you, for wanting to be out with me”

 

Sensing his need for human contact, and reciprocating it, Alana stood from her chair and at his confused look she circled the chair and asked him to move his a little. When he complied, she plopped in his lap and hugged him gently, looking into his eyes.

 

That look, his eyes. It was that vulnerability that made her kiss him after the dinner party. The tenderness, the need, it pulled her in and made her choose him. And once again, that look greeted her.

"Kiss me"

 

Hannibal complied and tightened his hold on her his lips locked on hers for a tender kiss. Her hands traveled up his torso and locked behind his head; Hannibal's hands rested at the small of her back, on bare skin above the fabric of her dress; their lips connected.

 

A deep growl escaped his chest making her jump a little and Hannibal responded by wrapping her in his arms firmer kissing her as if kisses would become illegal. His left hand traveled down her hip and up again pulling the fabric with it. Alana sighed against his lips.

 

When the door opened again by the waiter currying desert for them they broke apart, breathless and embarrassed, a flush traveling up Alana’s cheeks as she hid her face in Hannibal’s collar as he thanked and dismissed the server.

 

Once the server left, Alana reminded him of his end of their deal. Finishing his sorbet Hannibal wrapped both arms around Alana's waist for support.

 

"I saw both my parents and sister die when I was nine years old"

 

Alana's arms went around Hannibal’s neck as he listened.

 

"I was born in Lithuania and my father moved us to Iran for a business deal in 1978. My sister was born there but once the war began we couldn't leave"

 

It was Hannibal's turn to stare at the flames hypnotically while Alana held him together, pulling his head to rest on her chest as she saw what his psyche was like behind the fortress walls that surrounded him

 

"Bombs killed my parents, my teacher, our nanny... I screamed at my sister to close her eyes but she wouldn't listen. Even as bombs rained from the sky she ran to them and I ran after her to stop her, to keep her safe"

 

Tears slid down his cheeks but he paid them no mind.

 

"When the bombs stopped and it was safe to go out again we saw dogs eating them. To this day I despise dogs"

 

Hannibal's voice got cruel and Alana tightened her hold on him mentally noting to keep Will's pack and her own dog away from Hannibal

 

"What happened after that?"

 

She asked him softly. Hannibal's jaw tightened

 

"Our house was invaded by rogue soldiers. They chained us and some other children they had with them. They stole, they ate our food and when it ran out... the children would disappear"

 

Alana's breath caught in her chest. Did he mean...?

 

"I held on to my sister for as long as I could... They were big strong men... I was a kid... I saw her pearly baby teeth in a broth"

 

At that Hannibal broke down, clutching on Alana as if she was a teddy bear. Forcing back down the bile in her throat hugged him close and rubbed his back. How could Will have accused him of being a cannibal?

 

Just like that both her feet were firmly on one side of the border. She stood by the deeply scarred man in her arms. And it was final.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

Hannibal had parked a block away and hand in hand they walked to the car, going through a park that was empty. Holding Alana's hand, Hannibal wondered what had possessed him into telling her about Mischa. He certainly regretted telling will and he had planned on only telling Alana about his parents and his later life after the orphanage. He had already mentioned to her once that he came to adulthood in Paris living with his uncle and aunt.

 

Alana was also lost in her thoughts. The similarities between her own childhood and Hannibal's were interesting and scary. Not for the first time, she thanked the deities that she didn't lose her entire family like Hannibal. Then she wondered how her folks would react to Hannibal, and how would he react, when she took him to a classic Bloom bush.

 

"What are you laughing about?"

 

Alana sneaked a look at Hannibal under her lashes.

 

"Just wondering how fast you can run"

 

Amusement shone in his eyes

 

"And why were you wondering that?"

"Just in case I invite you to a family gathering. I need to know if you can run away fast enough or if I should leave the engine running"

 

The vice that had been torturing his heart ever since Alana left him at the hospital now moved to engulf his chest. She wasn't repulsed by his tale? She deemed him good enough to possibly meet her family? He must have been silent too long though because Alana stammered

 

"It was just a silly thought, blame the wine"

 

Upset at himself for hurting her Hannibal pulled her close and backed her against the side of his car

 

"I would love to meet your family Alana"

 

Alana's heart fluttered as his lips closed over hers in a passionate yet tender kiss. Holding onto his coat she kissed him back with enough ferocity to scare herself.

 

Hannibal felt drunk but not with alcohol, with her scent. He could feel it fill his nostrils every time he breathed. Pulling her head to the side by her chin, he smelled the sides of Alana's exposed throat. He ran his teeth along her skin as a small moan escaped her mouth.

 

He held her head firmly by her throat, wishing her hair wasn't pulled back so he could grab it, as he took his fill of her with not just his sense of smell, but also his sight. He feasted his eyes on the sight of her, her exposed neck begging to be bitten, her eyes, accentuated by light makeup, rolling into the back of her head. The feel of her hips gyrating against his, drawing more and more of his blood down south.

 

A small rational part of Hannibal's brain warned him that he should stop kissing Alana. Their kisses drew him deeper into animalism and his capability for rational thought diminished with each kiss

 

Needing air, he pushed his mouth into the small of her neck and bit down making the nerves in her neck tingle with pleasure as the skin softly reddened. Alana's nails scraped over the back of his own neck digging into his skin leaving marks of her own.

 

Looking into her eyes, Hannibal saw his lust echoing there. As if reading his mind Alana pulled the pins from her hair causing the chocolate locks to fall on her shoulders in slightly messy curls.

 

He relinquished control to his inner beast, and pulled her head back firmly by the curls and fed on her moan before pressing his lips onto Alana's, devouring her mouth. She kissed him back feverishly until he pulled away leaving them both breathing heavily, staring hungrily into the other's eyes.

 

"Open the door".

 

Almost an hour later, a heavily breathing Hannibal wrapped his arms around a still trembling Alana as they laid there savoring the moment.

 

"We should definitely go out more often"

 

He said after a while, causing her to laugh loudly and turn her head for another kiss.

 

~*~

 

One more week passed before things did get back to what the new normal would be.

 

~*~

 

Will stared at the man across the table.

 

"You want me to do what?"

"Accept the deal they're offering Mr. Graham. You'll be out in 10 or even less with good behavior as long as you keep going to therapy"

 

The dark haired man in the blue suit said simply.

 

"If it goes to trial you'll get more than 10"

 

Alana who, ignoring the rules, was sitting next to Will added.

 

"But..."

 

Will rubbed his hands over his eyes confused.

 

"I deserve more"

 

He insisted. Alana shared a look with Will's lawyer and rolled her eyes.

 

"Stop being a martyr for once Will! You chose to try and goad Hannibal into admitting he did something he didn't do and you failed. You chose to kill Tier and display him. If the prosecution is willing to cut you a deal for killing Abigail and overlook Randall Tier, you need to take it"

 

She said firmly. Will's blue eyes bore into hers but she stood her ground. Will used to be unable to maintain eye contact with everyone he met but her. She used to think it made her special. Now it made her feel eternal sympathy for mothers of overly opinionated toddlers.

 

"Fine"

 

Will thrust his bottom lip out. Alana rolled her eyes. Will's new lawyer hid laughter behind a cough.

 

~*~

 

Freddie Lounds had in fact published her article with the illegally obtained photos. Hannibal had laughed loudly before contacting his lawyer who after an agreement with Jack's replacement as the head of BSU, pressed charges against the woman and the paper. Needless to say that Freddie opened her own digital paper that was extremely low in e-readers.

 

~*~

 

Jack Crawford handed his resignation with the Bureau the day after his wife's funeral and as soon as it was accepted he joined her in eternal rest.

 

~*~

 

Hannibal had refused to press charges against Jack Crawford knowing it would make him look good with the police. At the same time, he reopened his practice and kept a low profile. His phone stopped ringing with requests for help from the FBI and he made sure to keep his distance from Will this time. He met the younger man only once to officially terminate Will's therapy.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Scarves of fuchsia tinted clouds trailed across the sky in the west, trapping the last rays of sunset. Lengthening shadows darkened the green of the grass, the light and heat of early spring day slowly fading. From the raised scene in the middle of the large park came the strains of Beethoven’s “Violin Sonata” as deft and artful fingers coaxed evocative sounds from old wood and strings.

 

Alana sat on a corner of a striped Indian blanket spread on the grass near enough the stage to have the best possible sound but not near enough to have permanent headache.

 

The park was fullwith people, young and old, families with childrenand handholdingcouples, singles and groups. Some picnicked from baskets like them; others sipped wine and munched on canapés; some tossed Frisbees; others chased runaway toddlers; some stood by the stage;some strolledaimlessly; some snoozed. Movement. Everywhere there was movement.

 

Hannibal shifted his position on the blanket and leaned back on his elbows, hooking one leg over the other, the movement drawing Alana's still disbelieving glance. Clad in sneakers, blue jeans, and a polo shirt, with dark glasses shielding his eyes, he looked like any other music lover.

 

“Enjoying yourself?”

 

He asked with a smile. Alana returned it.

 

“I'm still in awe of you sitting on grass, having a picnic and most importantly, not wearing a three piece suit"

 

Alana teased.

 

"I come here every year. You simply did not know about it"

 

He teased right back catching the yellow tennis ball Applesauce nudged with her nose at him and threw it away again. The cream dog ran after it followed closely by a shaggy white one. He had told Alana how much he despised dogs, and it was the truth, yet he somehow found himself not appalled by Winston and Applesauce even though neither dog liked him very much. It was a work in progress.

 

"How are you fairing without the rest of the dogs?"

 

He asked Alana noticing her watch the dogs.

 

"My house feels empty but I couldn't keep them all. Will agreed to let Margo Verger take them but Winston wouldn't go so..."

 

Alana shrugged one shoulder and Hannibal grinned knowing full well why Margo wanted Will's dogs. During a session he had told her what happened to her brother and how Will's dogs had eaten his face. Forcing Mason to interact with the dogs that tasted his flesh was a constant torture.

 

Sometimes Hannibal felt like a proud mother at the actions of his patients. Refilling their plastic cups with wine he raised one arm so Alana could curl herself on his lap

 

“Do you like the music?”

“I do”

"I can't believe I didn't know about this festival. Thank you for showing it to me"

 

Alana spoke in Hannibal's ear or her words would be drowned either by the music or the gurgling laughter of a toddler and the distant hum of street traffic.

 

“You're welcome"

 

He responded and tightened his arms around her content. Alana looked up at him, warmth bubbling in her.

 

“Would you like to dance?”

 

Startled, she wasn’t sure she understood what he meant.

 

“Here?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Here. Now. With me. In my arms.”

 

There was something dreamlike and slow about the way Hannibal sat up, drew her to her feet and he drew her against him, his gaze holding hers, his hand and arm folding over hers and carrying it to his chest. They danced close, their clothes brushing, with each shifting step. Her cheek was centimeters from his jaw, her nerve ends tingling with awareness of him.

 

She pressed closer to him, needing to feel the warmth of his body, needing to be reminded that he was alive despite the more than enough times he almost met his maker in the past six months.

 

His encircling arm tightened to keep her close. Hannibal rubbed his jaw against her cheek breathing in her soft floral scent. She closed her eyes for an instant, and then smiled.

 

“Do you realize that this is the first time we’ve danced together?”

“It’s not going to be our last.”

 

His lips lightly grazed along her eyebrow, his breath warm against her skin.

 

“I want to court you, Alana. We bypassed that the last time.”

“I guess we did.”

 

Did she regret that? She didn’t know.

 

“I want to do it right this time. Candlelight dinners, roses, and soft music”

“I'd like that”

 

He took her lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of longing. She answered it with equal fervor until they were interrupted by the two dogs.

 

"Go home with me?"

"With pleasure"

 

###  The end

 


End file.
